Most Wanted Saga: On The Run
by The Flashpoint Hero
Summary: Growing up in a criminal family, my childhood thievery gave me an adult profession that I never dreamed I'd have: assassin. I was put on OWCA's most wanted list when I was eight, mostly due to the fact that I never miss. My name is Octavia the Platypus, and this is the story of how I went from hitman to OWCA prisoner to fugitive.
1. Prologue

**_From the secure files of Major Monogram_**

 ** _Name:_** _Wentworth_

 ** _Age:_** _9_

 ** _Species:_** _Echidna_

 ** _Gender:_** _Male_

 ** _Origin:_** _Parents abandoned him and his twin sister at a young age. Grew up on the streets._

 ** _Crime(s):_** _Hacking OWCA database 16 times._

 ** _Arrest Date:_** _29_ _th_ _December 2015 (after being tracked to his hideout)_

 ** _Additional Notes:_** _DO NOT GIVE WENTWORTH ANY ELECTRICAL DEVICE. HE CAN AND WILL HACK THE SYSTEM._

 _Flight risk. Will do anything and everything to escape._

 _..._

 ** _Name:_** _Simone_

 ** _Age:_** _9_

 ** _Species:_** _Echidna_

 ** _Gender:_** _Female_

 ** _Origin:_** _Parents abandoned her and her twin brother at a young age. Grew up on the streets._

 ** _Crime(s):_** _Arson of 4 facilities, including one of OWCA's._

 ** _Arrest Date:_** _5_ _th_ _January 2016 (after burning down yet another facility)_

 ** _Additional Notes:_** _Has been known to escape her cell in order to find her brother. Has separation anxiety, so allow semi-regular visits._

 _..._

 ** _Name:_** _Wanda_

 ** _Age:_** _10_

 ** _Species:_** _Wolf_

 ** _Gender:_** _Female._

 ** _Origin:_** _Father disappeared before she was born. Mother was killed in a fire when Wanda was young. Found and raised by a gang of abandoned animals._

 ** _Crime(s):_** _Murder (of the gang's previous leader) and assault (of approx. 112 OWCA agents and other animals)._

 ** _Arrest Date:_** _9_ _th_ _February 2015 (after turning herself in)_

 ** _Additional Notes:_** _Is volatile. Approach with caution. DO NOT BRING UP HER PAST; see Incident #280998_

 _..._

 ** _Name:_** _Chalcedony_

 ** _Age:_** _8_

 ** _Species:_** _Cheetah_

 ** _Gender:_** _Male_

 ** _Origin:_** _Raised by two parents, who were both killed by muggers._

 ** _Crime(s):_** _144 counts of theft, for none of which has he been caught before._

 ** _Arrest Date:_** _28_ _th_ _June 2017 (after being caught robbing an OWCA facility)_

 ** _Additional Notes:_** _Chalcedony met Pyrope the Pied Tamarin at age 2, just after his parents were killed. They have developed a tight bond. Therefore, if the need to take one of them somewhere arises, the other MUST be taken too, or there will be an incident. See Escape Incident #203._

 _..._

 ** _Name:_** _Pyrope_

 ** _Age:_** _8_

 ** _Species:_** _Pied Tamarin_

 ** _Gender:_** _Female_

 ** _Origin:_** _Mother forced her to become a thief at a very early age. Father beat her up and left her in the streets to die, where she was found by Chalcedony the Cheetah._

 ** _Crime(s):_** _144 counts of theft, for none of which has she been caught before._

 ** _Arrest Date:_** _28_ _th_ _June 2017 (after being caught robbing an OWCA facility)_

 ** _Additional Notes:_** _Pyrope and Chalcedony the Cheetah have developed a tight bond. Therefore, if the need to take one of them somewhere arises, the other MUST be taken too, or there will be an incident. See Escape Incident #203._

 _..._

Major Monogram put the files down and regarded Perry the Platypus, who was standing in front of the major's desk. "What do you have to gain by showing me these files, Agent P?"

Perry wordlessly pointed to the one file that Major Monogram had not read. The major frowned and began to read.

...

 ** _Name:_** _Octavia_

 ** _Age:_** _10_

 ** _Species:_** _Platypus_

 ** _Gender:_** _Female_

 ** _Origin:_** _Raised by criminal parents. Became an assassin at a young age._

 ** _Crime(s):_** _78 confirmed kills._

 ** _Arrest Date:_** _N/A_

 ** _Additional Notes:_** _Octavia has not been arrested yet. She is extremely dangerous, and a number one priority._

 _PERFECT AIM._

 _..._

Major Monogram raised an eyebrow at Perry. "Agent P, I thought you retired from the field."

"I did, sir," Perry replied softly.

"And yet you're telling me you want to lead a task force to capture this platypus?"

Perry hesitated. "Sir, she…she killed…" He inhaled deeply. "She's killed a lot of people, sir. She's dangerous."

"She's an assassin, Agent P." Major Monogram sighed. "Do you really think you're a match for her?"

"Yes, sir," Perry replied immediately, a steely glint in his eye. "I think I can take her."

Major Monogram sighed again. "You can only do this mission if you do it solo."

"Deal," Perry said, again replying instantly. He had actually been about to suggest that he do this solo; he couldn't risk this platypus taking out any of his friends.

Not again.

"Solo or duo," Major Monogram amended. "Either alone or take one person."

Perry hesitated. There WAS one person he could bring…but he didn't know if he would be able to bring himself to put his friend in danger like that.

"I suggest your partner," Major Monogram said dryly.

"Sir, what if Octavia kills Ohio?" Perry said bluntly.

"What if she kills YOU?" countered Major Monogram. "Agent O is just as skilled as you, and I know you two will protect each other just as you have always done. Besides, two targets will make it harder for this platypus to get the drop on you."

"Sir, I'd appreciate it if you didn't call us targets," Perry snapped, as disrespectfully as he dared.

Major Monogram just raised an eyebrow. "Two people are harder to kill. I suggest you take Agent O with you."

"Sir, I-!"

"Agent P, "suggest" in this context does not mean what it normally means," Major Monogram said sternly. "It means "order"."

Perry closed his bill. "Yes, sir," he said resentfully.

As he turned and walked away, he scowled automatically.

 _If Ohio dies on this mission, heads are going to roll._


	2. It's Just A Job

**From now on, if it's in first person, it will be Octavia's point of view.**

…

Another day, another target. That's how I've been brought up to look at it. Don't think of your targets as individuals; see them as just a part of your job. Because that's what they are: they're just a part of the job. A stepping stone between you and your money, one that you have to cross if you want your pay.

But it's not just the pay I want. I get a sort of buzz or kick from killing. It's disgusting. I disgust myself, so that's why I always use my trusty sniper rifle to finish the job, as opposed to my diamond dagger, which I always have on me. The dagger feels too personal, so unless the job IS personal, I avoid using it on my targets.

Today, the job is not personal. It's simply, really: a human target. Unusual but not unheard of. Works on the top floor of a hundred-floor office block. Unfortunately, her office does not border a window, so I can't shoot from a distance. I have to actually get inside the building. And for that reason, a gun might be too conspicuous, so I might have to resort to using my dagger. I really hope not; I hate using my dagger for impersonal targets.

I get into the building by dropping to all fours and acting like a mindless animal. Quite a few people take pictures of me with their phones. Some will be posting them on social media. I don't mind, though. Social media is for humans, and no human will recognise me as an assassin. They'll simply think a platypus wandered into a building by mistake. And that's what I'm counting on right now.

I take the stairs as if it's the most normal thing in the world for a black platypus. I get some weird looks and a few laughs, but nobody calls security on me, so that's good.

After about half an hour, I'm finally on the top floor. Considering I'm a fairly small platypus, I think I've made good time.

This time, I keep to the shadows. A couple of people spot me, but they don't make a fuss. I'd rather keep a lower profile up here, since I'm so close to my target.

Speaking of which, there she is. The middle-aged woman is sitting in her office, which is glass on two sides (opposite each other) and wooden on the two other sides; one of those sides is the side with the door.

With nobody looking, I hop up into the rafters of the roof. I lie down on one of the metal support beams and get out my sniper rifle, which I assemble quickly. Then I aim.

I can hear the woman talking to someone on the phone.

 _Don't close your eyes,_ the voice in my head says, sensing that I have the urge to shoot with my eyes closed. _If you're going to kill her, you can't just pretend it isn't happening._

As I'm aiming, I suddenly spot a ring on her finger.

 _She's married…_

 _And there's a photo of four kids on her desk._

 _How can I kill her…?!_

Do it, I snap in my head. You just have to do it.

 _But she has a family! Kids who probably depend on her!_

So did several of my other targets. I can't afford to think about that.

 _But you ARE thinking about it. And now that you're thinking about it, you know you can't kill her._

YES I CAN!

SHOOT!

SHOOT HER!

Before I can stop myself, I pull the trigger.

I immediately close my eyes and look away.

The sound of the gunshot is not muted; I can hear it clearly, just milliseconds before there's the sound of shattering glass. The talking is abruptly cut off, and I hear the phone hit the floor.

I wince as I hear the door slam open and several people start to talk loudly and fearfully. I disassemble my rifle and I drop down from the rafter, glancing towards the office. I don't need to confirm that she's dead. I was aiming for her head, and I know I hit it. I never miss. Never. Ignoring the part of me that wants to go and see all the beautiful blood, I slip out the door, unseen.

As soon as I'm out the building, I run on all fours until I'm several blocks away. Chest heaving, I dart into an alleyway and dial a number on my special watch, which I can use like a phone to contact my clients. It uses a very distinct frequency, so it's harder to track than a phone number.

"Hello?" says a wary human voice.

My watch automatically translates English into platypus, and vice versa, so I don't have to worry about translators or anything like that. In fact, because of this handy feature, I don't think most of my clients even know I'm a platypus.

"Octavia. It's over."

Since I've just killed someone when I'm phoning my clients back, I never use many words. Mostly, I'm still sort of in shock and still processing it, despite how many times I've done this before.

"Good. The rest of the cash is being transferred to your account now."

I glance down at my watch just in time to see a "notification" pop up, saying that five hundred thousand dollars has been transferred to my account.

I always charge a million dollars for my services: five hundred thousand to be paid up front, with the rest being paid after the job is done. It's ridiculously expensive, and that's why I don't get many jobs. But I'm glad; it's my subconscious's way of making sure I don't kill too many people.

But the number's still way too big for my liking…

"Thank you," I say into the watch. "Pleasure doing business with you."

"Likewise," says the curt voice back, before the connection is cut.

I sigh and slump against the wall.

This is the kind of job that pays the bills but is absolutely exhausting.

I have no idea whether I like my job or not.


	3. A Friend In Need

Home sweet home. That, for me, is a small garage that I found and converted. It's warm in the winter and cool in the summer, which is all I ask for. There's a bed, a desk, a computer, a closet, a television on the wall, a small pantry area, and several large shelves, which is all I need. There's also a small workbench, where I tinker with my gun quite a lot, and a few dummies and targets that I use to practise, but they're luxuries, not basics.

When I get home, I put my gun on the shelf and dive onto my bed. I need sleep.

My nap lasts all night and most of the next morning, if my clock is to be believed. But that's fine. The clock says it's eleven am when I get up and head over to the pantry.

After eating a small brunch, I flop backwards on my bed and lie there for a while. I try and occupy my thoughts by thinking about what I'm going to spend my money on, but it doesn't work. I just end up hating myself even more. It happens after every job. Someday, I'm going to explode.

Then I hear someone knock on the door. I ignore it, hoping they'll go away. But at the same time, all of my clients contact me via my watch and very few people know where I actually live. I sigh. If they knock again, I'll answer it. If not, I'll continue to lie here.

There are no more knocks, to my relief.

But instead, I hear the door open and close. Someone's come in.

I sit up sharply, but when I see the pink platypus coming towards me, I relax and lie down on my back. "Hi," I say blandly.

Naomi pauses next to the bed. "You look great," she snorts. "Job yesterday?"

I nod slowly.

"Ah. Crippling depression?"

I nod again.

There's a pause.

"Need hot chocolate?"

"Yes."

Naomi laughs. "Lucky for you, I stopped off and brought some."

I sit up slowly and accept the polystyrene cup that Naomi hands me. The hot chocolate is delicious, and it even has melted mini marshmallows in it. It warms up my entire body and makes me feel a lot better. I smile up at my friend. "Thanks."

"Gotta say: I didn't think assassins could HAVE bouts of depression," Naomi comments.

I snort. "Believe it."

Naomi sighs. "Look, Octavia…I think you should find someone."

"Someone who?" I scowl.

"A boyfriend," explains Naomi. "Or, at the very least, a very close friend. You need someone to help you."

I exhale deeply. "You know, my dad used to give me a lot of advice, but the ones I remember most were about trusting nobody and always looking out for yourself above others. So that's what I've done."

"Octavia-."

"Frankly, I don't even trust you," I say, rather harshly. "Trusting people only gets you stabbed in the back."

"So…you wouldn't consider us friends?" Naomi's face and voice are hard to read.

I shrug. "You may or may not be an exception."

Naomi smirks slightly. "So you don't want this job I have?"

I blink. "You…have a job for me?"

She nods. "I can't pay you what you normally charge—I can't pay you at all, actually—but I really need your help."

I hum in thought. On one hand, I don't like accepting jobs without proper payment. On the other hand, Naomi is the closest thing I have to a friend, and if she needs help, I do want to offer my assistance. Plus, my interest is piqued. "What kind of help?" I ask eventually.

"There's a platypus," Naomi begins. "A teal platypus. He's an agent of O.W.C.A."

I know the Organisation Without A Cool Acronym. I've killed at least two agents from there, most recently, a black and white panda.

"He's been hunting me for a while," Naomi tells me. "He thinks I killed someone close to him."

…could that be the panda? Does this platypus blame Naomi for my kill? In which case, that makes me feel really bad…

Naomi continues, "He's not going to stop until he gets me, and that scares me, Octavia. I…I need you to dispose of him so I'm not under threat."

I hesitate. "A teal platypus?"

"Named Perry," Naomi adds.

"Perry the Platypus." I think hard. "Do you know where to find him?"

"He trains at an abandoned warehouse on the corner of 5th and Main Street," Naomi informs me. "That's where he'll be today for the entire afternoon. He's been going there every day for the last few weeks; I know he'll be there."

I hesitated again. "Naomi, I need you to promise me that if I do this job for you, it's the last time you'll ask for free help. Okay?"

"Trust me, this will be the last time," Naomi promises.

I sigh. "Alright then. I'll do it."

…

I head to the warehouse that Naomi told me about. It looks abandoned, just as Naomi said. Hopping up onto the window, I see a lone platypus in the middle of it, hitting a punching bag. Unfortunately, I won't quite be able to hit him from here, so I climb through the shattered window and run along the rafters to a comfortable position. Because there are no witnesses, I won't need to worry about sneaking out.

I assemble my gun and aim. In the second it takes for me to aim, I let my guard down.

Big mistake.

Something slams into me and knocks me off the beam. My gun and I fall all the way to the ground; luckily, I don't land heavily, and my gun doesn't break. I scoop it up and swing round wildly, trying to spot the thing that hit me.

I see a brown platypus who looks almost exactly like Perry the Platypus. He's in a fighting stance opposite me, glaring at me.

"Who are you?" I demand.

"My name is Ohio," the platypus replies in a Scottish accent.

Perry the Platypus runs over to Ohio and copies his fighting stance.

"And you're about to be arrested," he growls.


	4. Showdown

"You were waiting for me? How?" I demand.

Perry smirks. "Let's just say that your only friend isn't quite your friend."

I growl as it dawns on me. "Naomi. She set me up."

"She's an O.W.C.A. agent," Ohio informs me. "Always has been. She's been working for us for years."

I feel a stab in my heart. Naomi has been my friend for over a year, and all this time, she's been working for my enemy? She sent me right into a trap. That hurts.

"Come quietly," advises Perry, glaring. "Maybe we'll go easy on you."

I snort. "I'm definitely not coming quietly. In fact, I'm not coming at all. You can't make me go anywhere with you."

"You've killed people we care about!" Ohio snaps. "We're not letting you leave here free!"

I lower into a fighting stance. "Try and take me."

Ohio is the first to charge. He leaps at me and aims a skilful blow, but I block it and duck down to avoid another strike. Then Perry charges in.

I'm able to fend them off fairly well, but they're both highly trained O.W.C.A. agents, and I'm one single platypus who's more skilled with a gun from a distance than hand-to-hand. So I decide to level the playing field a little.

I turn and run. Scooping up my gun, I jump as high as I can and grab the support beam I was holding onto earlier with one paw, holding my rifle in the other.

"Come down here and fight!" Perry snarls.

"Not going to happen," I counter. "I have no chance against you two."

"That's the point," snaps Ohio. "That's why Perry brought me instead of coming here alone."

"He should have come here alone," I say, swinging up onto the beam. I aim my gun down at the two platypuses. "Now I have to kill both of you."

They immediately run backwards, out of my range. I curse and drop down from the rafters, ready to fire, but before I can, Ohio races towards me and grabs the gun, trying to pull it out of my hands. I pull back angrily, and we wrestle over the rifle for a while, but then Perry breaks us apart, and the gun falls to the ground between us.

I grab it as fast as I can, then I'm forced to run away as the two platypuses pursue me. Just as Ohio is about to grab me, I leap up and manage to clutch the rafters again, swinging my legs out of Perry's and Ohio's reaches. I balance on the rafters, aiming my gun down at them.

"Stop going up there!" yells Perry angrily.

"Aww, are you going to sulk?" I taunt.

"No, I'm gonna kick your butt when you come down here!" Perry retorted.

I smirk. "See, that's the good thing about being an assassin who only uses a gun: I'm better at long-distance fighting."

I fire.

The first bullet misses, but that's only because I intend for it to miss. The second bullet is designed to hit Perry's chest, but Ohio manages to pull him out of the way. I growl and aim again, but before I can fire, Perry whips off his hat and throws it like a Frisbee. It takes me so by surprise that I can only do a clumsy dive to the side to avoid it, which causes me to slip off the beam. I land on my feet, but Ohio immediately leaps on top of me, knocking me over, and pins me down. "Game over," he snarls.

"For you," I spit back, my gun in my hand.

The shot I fire is clumsy, but it hits him. He falls backwards with a yell of pain, blood spurting from the wound in his chest. Perry sees him fall and races over to him, a terrified look on his face "OHIO!" he screams.

I scramble backwards as Perry catches Ohio and lays him down gently. "Ohio, please say something!"

"Pe…rry…" I hear Ohio rasp.

"Stay with me, buddy! Please just stay awake!"

I quickly turn and begin to run away, but then Perry appears out of nowhere and slams something hard into the back of my head, stunning me terribly. I topple forwards and hit the floor. The last thing I feel before I pass out is something metal clicking around my left wrist.


End file.
